“They need to be embraced and understood for what they can and can’t do,” mom Anna Chagnon tells PEOPLE
Courtesy Chagnon Family
Anna and Michael Chagnon
Society’s judgment can be harsh — even on kids.
At 9, Juliana Chagnon, has already experienced this. She doesn’t sit down and is continually in motion. She’s gregarious, her voice is loud and she often can’t stop herself from talking even when her mom, Anna, requests peace and quiet.
“People assume that Julianna’s behavior is driven by what we’re doing wrong,” says her mom. “They can be afraid of why she’s so hyper and can’t calm down. They don’t get that it’s part of her.”
People who don’t know the Chagnon family don’t understand that Julianna and brother Nicky, 12, were diagnosed at birth with neonatal abstinence syndrome (NAS), which occurs when a developing fetus is exposed to opioids in the womb. The effects can be devastating and include behavioral and physical health conditions such as impulse-control issues, bipolar disorder and developmental delays. Nationally, more than 59 newborns are diagnosed with NAS daily, according to CDC data.
Anna, an attorney, and her retired husband Mike, who live in New England, adopted Julianna and Nicky as infants. They are proud of their children’s achievements in the face of adversity. Anna says: “Nicky has had more challenges than any kid I know. Whatever gets thrown at him, he always has a smile on his face.”
Anna emphasizes that society also judges people with substance use disorder. “We now know addiction is a disease,” she says, sharing that their birth parents “had little or no control over the choices they made.”
“The children, even more so, didn’t ask to be born this way,” she adds. “They need to be embraced and understood for what they can and can’t do.”
For more stories about the trials — and triumphs — of children born dependent on drugs, pick up the latest issue of PEOPLE, on newsstands Friday, or subscribe here.
Angela Christopher
Pamela and Stanley Wentzel with son Jackson
Jackson Wentzel was adopted as a newborn by his grandparents, Stan and Pamela Wentzel, both retired, of Madison Heights, Mich. As he grew up, his NAS symptoms ran the spectrum from “never” sleeping to “no impulse control,” says Pamela.
At 11, he is globally delayed. He has a speech disorder that prevents him from using certain letters of the alphabet, he’s unable to bathe himself, his emotions are somewhat flatlined and he suffers from “interoception,” so he has difficulty sensing signals such as hunger and temperature.
The Wentzels began homeschooling Jackson a few years ago “because his teachers were getting impatient with him,” says Pamela. This suits their close family unit of three just fine.
Jackson, who calls the couple “Mom” and “Dad,” likes to go on trips with his parents and engages with neighbors who understand his issues. He has also become an electronic whiz. “If you ask him a tech question he’ll talk your ear off about it. It’s a real blessing to have him,” adds Pamela.
Courtesy Julie Higginbotham
Stanley Wentzel with his speech therapist, Julie Higginbotham at Henry Ford Macomb Outpatient Rehabilitation in Clinton Township, MI.
Meanwhile, the Maxwell family of Marshfield, Mass., are parents to three adopted children: 17-year-old AJ, Cal, 10 — who both have NAS diagnoses — as well as 9-year-old Della.
AJ’s collection of symptoms read like a laundry list of difficulty: She has severe ADHD, generalized anxiety disorder, extreme executive dysfunction and sensory processing challenges. She also exhibits hyperactivity, issues with many areas of social communication, autism and a possible mood disorder.
To keep their daughter on track, her parents have adopted a strict routine of care and supervision that includes planning for ways to get away from overstimulating situations, previewing and prepping social events as well as supervising AJ’s use of technology very closely so she doesn’t engage with the wrong people.
“AJ has had many struggles in life,” says mom Leslie, a clinical social worker. “It’s heartbreaking to think back on the challenges and traumas she has been through. We worry daily about her safety and her future. But you will not find a more creative, resilient, and loving person on this planet.”
If you or someone you know is struggling with substance abuse, please contact the SAMHSA helpline at 1-800-662-HELP.